


Prompt: Lost their voice from screaming- Lance (Voltron)

by AnaliseGrey



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [8]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bad Things Happen Bingo, Gen, Lance has had a rough few days, Langst, Rescue!, but his team is there for him!, prompt: lost their voice from screaming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-26 19:46:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15008063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnaliseGrey/pseuds/AnaliseGrey
Summary: This is the square I picked for myself from my Bad Things Happen Bingo card





	Prompt: Lost their voice from screaming- Lance (Voltron)

**Author's Note:**

> This is essentially part 3 of a set of prompts. The first two parts can be found at:
> 
>  
> 
> [Part I: Breathing, Slow and Controlled](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14719436)  
> [Part II: 'Help me get him up.'](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14734289)

They’d come.

Shiro had promised, after all. Lance’d had faith, and they all followed through. He’d known they would come, had no reason to think they wouldn’t. It had been hard to remember that though, when the Druid was-

_ No _ . Lance wasn’t going to think about that right now. Pidge was here, Hunk was on his way, and everything was going to be fine. They were getting him out.

Pidge had her arm over his shoulders, holding him close, and it hurt, all of him hurt, but he also didn’t want her to let go. He willfully ignored the tears he could feel falling, and she didn’t mention it, for which he was ridiculously thankful. 

Lance tensed as there was a clattering out in the corridor, but then Hunk skidded into the cell, out of breath.

“You...you got him! Oh thank quiznack, buddy, hey, are you ok, you look awful.”

Pidge snorted a laugh as Hunk winced, and Lance huffed what would have been a laugh if he could talk. He raised a hand in a so-so gesture and shrugged, which made Hunk frown.

“What- why aren’t you talking? Pidge, why isn’t he talking?”

“Dunno, but we should go. Help me get him up.”

Hunk immediately came over and squatted down next to Lance, switching his bayard over to his right hand so he could get his left arm around Lance, under his arms. Hunk then stood up, taking Lance with him. Lance knew Hunk was strong, but he was always kind of in awe when he did the whole ‘casual display of buffness’ thing. His next thought was wow, being upright  _ hurt _ .

All the bruises and claw marks across his skin pulled, some of them reopening, and Lance grimaced, hands tightening into fists.

“Aww, buddy, I’m sorry, but we’ve gotta move. You good to go, or do you need me to carry you?”

Lance opened his mouth and hissed quietly in frustration when he couldn’t easily respond. He wanted to be able to walk out of here on his own, or at least with Hunk’s help, but he knew they needed to be fast; he didn’t want to take  _ any  _ chances of them being caught. So he sighed, and moved his hands in a lifting gesture.

“Gotcha. Think you can handle a fireman’s carry? I wanna be able to still hold my bayard.”

Lance didn’t think any of the wounds on his front were really more than cosmetic. They’d hurt, but they wouldn’t make anything much worse than they already were. He nodded at Hunk, and Hunk knelt down to get a grip around Lance’s knees before hefting him up. Lance wheezed out a noise, but then tapped on Hunk’s shoulder, ‘ _ ready to go _ ’.

The trip back to the Yellow lion felt quick, but Lance wasn’t sure if that was because it was, or because he kept fading in and out of awareness on the way. Hunk set him down gently on the floor of the cockpit, frowning apologetically when Lance winced at the hard floor; he was glad to be out of the cell, but the floor of the Yellow lion wasn’t much more comfortable a surface to lie on.

“Sorry, we’ll be back at the Castle soon. Coran and the others will meet us in the hangar. We’ll get you fixed up in no time.”

Lance nodded, and closed his eyes. Now that the adrenaline of escape was starting to fade, he was really starting to notice how awful he felt. The last few days, or what he thought were days, had been rough. He’d managed to hold out against the Druid, but he thought that had more to do with the fact the Druid was called away early than any superhuman effort on his part. He knew if the Druid’d had an extra day or so, he wouldn’t have lasted. In the absence of the Druid, the remaining guards had done what they could to make him talk; they’d beaten him, went at him with claws, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been fed. He didn’t know what they would have come up with next, but he’s very glad he didn’t get the chance to find out.

The next thing he knew, they were landing, and just the thought of trying to get back up again exhausted him. He’s saved from the effort by Hunk, who scoops him up in his arms now that he doesn’t need to worry about his bayard. It’s a much more comfortable carry, and again, Lance was thankful for it.

Hunk carefully made his way down the ramp and out of his lion, careful not to knock Lance into anything. Coran was waiting with a floating bed from the infirmary, the others just beside him, and Coran sucked in a breath between his teeth.

“Oh, dear boy, look at you. Bring him here, Hunk. Gently, now.”

Hunk sets Lance down on the bed, and Lance sighs. This is the most comfortable he’s been since...well, a while, anyway.

“Alright, back up everyone, give us some room. I’ll take him down to get checked out, and you can see him in a bit. Go get cleaned up, and I’ll let you know when he’s ready for some company.”

When they hit the hallway, the other paladins split off to head to the showers while Coran carefully pushed the bed towards the infirmary. Lance noticed that Shiro had split off with them and was quietly following, though he was staying a few steps behind.

They reached the infirmary, and Coran guided the bed over towards a free docking station, locking it into place so it wouldn’t move. Shiro took a seat off to the side, still not saying anything, but Lance was thankful he was there.

“I’m going to run some scans before I do anything else. Is that alright?”

Lance nodded, trying to straighten out on the bed from the huddled curl he’d been in on the way here. They’d all been scanned before, since Coran wanted to have a baseline for all of them, and he knew he had to be laying out flat and still for the scanner to pick him up correctly. It took him a moment, and he was trembling after, but he managed.

The scans were quick, painless. Coran read the results, and hummed thoughtfully.

“There’s nothing critical, no permanent damage, though you might scar from some of the lacerations. It’s up to you whether you go in a pod or not, my boy. It would help you heal faster, the scarring would be minimal. All of this will resolve on its own if given the chance, though. It would take a movement or so for you to be back fighting fit. Which would you prefer?”

He knew he should pick the pod, to be ready to fight again sooner rather than later, to be ready to help as soon as he was able, but a deeper piece of him rebelled at that. He didn’t want to go into the pod. He wanted to be out here, safe, warm, around his friends who could reassure him he wasn’t back with the Galra, that everything was going to be ok. A curl of guilt rooted in his stomach. How could he be so selfish, though? What if they needed him and he wasn’t ready? What if there was an attack and he couldn’t fly yet?

He was pulled out of his internal debate by Shiro calling his name. When he looked over, Shiro was smiling gently at him. “If you don’t want to go into the pod, it’s ok. Don’t feel like you have to if you don’t want to. We’re heading to Olkarion for a few days to do some work on the Castle, so things should be quiet.”

Lance felt some of the tension leave his shoulders. That- that was good. He still felt a little guilty about it, but if Shiro said it was ok…

He looked back up at Coran who was watching him expectantly, and shook his head, mouthing, ‘no pod’.

“Alright then. What we’ll do is get you cleaned up and bandaged, maybe an ice pack for that eye, then you can finish getting cleaned up and changed back at your room, maybe get you something to eat.”

Lance let Coran cut away the rest of the upper half of his flight suit; most of it was beyond repair or missing anyway. Coran kept muttering angrily to himself as he worked, and Lance had to keep reminding himself Coran wasn’t angry at  _ him _ , but at what had been done  _ to  _ him. 

He hadn’t thought he could feel more tired and still be conscious, but that just went to show how much he knew. By the time Coran declared him good to go, Lance wasn’t sure how he was going to make it to his room, let alone anything else. He was lying down, and his arms and legs were still shaking.

He was saved from figuring it out by a warm hand on his shoulder. Shiro had wandered closer for the first time since they got to the infirmary, and was standing next to the bed. “I’ll help him to his room, Coran. Why don’t you go let the others know Lance will see them later.”

Soon it’s just the two of them and the quiet sounds of the machines in the room humming under their breathing.

“Do you need a minute?”

Lance shook his head, and deciding he couldn’t put it off any longer. Coran had cleaned his wounds, but he would possibly kill for a shower and a change of clothes. He tried pushing himself up to sitting and was annoyed when he barely managed. Shiro helped steady him, waiting patiently as Lance caught his breath. Lance nodded decisively, and pushed himself off the bed. Shiro’s reflexes and the strong arm around Lance’s waist were the only things that kept him from faceplanting onto the floor. He huffed in irritation and tried to get his legs to steady under him, willed them to keep him upright, if only barely. He half expected Shiro to just pick him up and carry him, but Shiro did no such thing. Instead, Shiro waited for Lance to decide what he wanted, patient as a stone.

“It’s ok, Lance. Once you’ve had the chance to eat something and rest, that’ll go a long way toward helping you feel better. Most of this is residual.”

And Shiro would know, wouldn’t he? Lance shuddered, realizing, and not for the first time, that Shiro was achingly familiar with what he was going through, had likely gone through it more than once himself, for much longer. As much pain as he’s currently in, thinking about that kind of stuff happening to Shiro hurt more.

“C’mon, if you can, put your arm around me; it’ll help with your balance.”

Lance was dismayed at the effort it took to lift his left arm, but he did manage to get it around Shiro’s waist.

“Alright, nice and slow. Let’s go.”

It felt like the longest walk of his life, getting from the infirmary to his room, and Lance almost gave in and asked Shiro to carry him a couple of times. But every time he needed to take a break, Shiro would ease them to a stop, help Lance lean on the wall, and waited until Lance was ready to move again. By the time they reached Lance’s room he was shaking like a leaf, sweat pouring off of him, and he was never more glad that Altean bandages were waterproof. Shiro helped him ease down to sit on the edge of his bed, and he silently sighed in relief. Beds were awesome.  _ His _ bed was awesome. The most wonderful bed in the whole universe really. He was about to tip over sideways to fully enjoy the full squish power of his matress when Shiro clucked his tongue and caught carefully at Lance’s shoulders.

“Nope, can’t let you do that yet.”

Lance tried to whine, but nothing came out, so instead he just made the most pitiful pair of puppy eyes he could. Shiro snorted a laugh, but still didn’t let him fall over.

“Nuh-uh. I promise you it will be worth it. Just a little longer, you can take a shower, and put on clean pajamas, and then you can lay down while I get you something to eat. Besides, the warm water will help your strained muscles, I promise.”

Lance heaved a dramatic sigh, but nodded in resignation, letting Shiro help him get back up to wobble into the attached bathroom all the paladin’s bedrooms had. Lance had never been so grateful in his life that the shower stalls had a build-in bench, because while he appreciated everything Shiro was doing to help him, showering was not one of the things he was prepared to accept help with.

Shiro had grabbed spare clothes and a towel and set them on the shelf near the shower, and gave Lance a critical look.

“I’m going to wait out in your room. Obviously you can’t shout if you need anything, but I’ll be listening. Knock on the wall if you need any kind of help, or if you start to feel faint, ok?”

Lance nodded, and shut the bathroom door. It was the first time he’d been alone somewhere safe since before his capture. He turned on the shower, set it to his preferred temperature, stripped, and stepped under the water. The water pressure on the Castle was always amazing, and this time was no different. The spray hurt a little as it hit some of his bruises, but Shiro was right, the trade-off of delicious liquid warmth sluicing over him was totally worth it. He felt his shoulders lower, tension bleeding out, and next thing he knew he was crying, his tears mixing in with the shower water. Silent heaving sobs wracked through him, and god, what- he was safe, he was  _ fine _ , he’d be ok in a few days and ready to jump back into the fray in a week, this was  _ stupid _ . He scrubbed himself as best as he could, and turned off the water, breath still shuddering through him. He got out, sat on the closed toilet seat as he dried himself off and got the pajama bottoms on. He decided the top was too much trouble, and left it with the towel by the sink. Shiro was waiting just like he’d said, leaning back in Lance’s desk chair with his eyes closed and arms crossed over his chest. When he heard the bathroom door open, he cracked his eyes open and smiled at Lance. 

“Hey, how’re you feeling?”

Lance opened his mouth, even though he knew full well he couldn’t say anything, but his breath hitched, and god, he’d thought he got all the crying over with in the shower, but it looked like he wasn’t done yet. He stumbled over to his bed and crumpled down onto it, curled in a heaving ball, more tears wetting the comforter where he’d buried his face in it.

There was the sound of the desk chair moving, then the bed dipped next to him, and he felt the cool pads of metal fingertips against the skin of his back, gently rubbing up and down.

“Hey, you’re safe, you’re ok. Are you in any pain? Do you need a painkiller?”

Lance shook his head against the bed and managed to move enough that he was part-way in Shiro’s lap. Shiro went with it, carefully helping him settle and hugging Lance firmly.

“It’s a lot to process, huh? That sudden realization that you’re out, that they don’t have you anymore.” Shiro’s voice is quiet, the movement of his hand up and down Lance’s spine feels meditative and soothing. Lance nods against Shiro’s chest, breath still hitching. His throat aches, burns with all the words he can’t say, might not have been able to manage even if he had his voice, and he shakes with it; Shiro just holds on, murmuring soothing nonsense at him until he starts to calm. He wants to feel embarrassed about it, but he’s so far beyond drained and exhausted, he just doesn’t have the energy for it. Maybe he’ll feel it later, that he cried his eyes out while being held by his flight commander, but that was a problem for Later Lance; for now all he wanted was to rest.

“Do you want me to bring you some ice chips for your throat when I get your food?”

Lance glanced up at Shiro, eyebrow raised in question.

“Feel free to let me know if I’m wrong, but- they didn’t take your voice, you lost it, right?”

Lance nodded slowly.

“While you were with the Druid?”

Lance shuddered, curling forward slightly, but nods again. Shiro squeezes him before pushing away slightly so he can see Lance’s face.

“You know we’re proud of you, right?”

Lance looks up at him, incredulous.

“Druids are...a lot to deal with. For anyone, even at the best of times. But you fought. You fought hard and you survived, and held on until we could get to you. So yeah, we’re- no,  _ I’m _ \- proud of you. You did everything right.” Shiro pulls him in for another hug, this one a bit tighter. It hurts, but Lance can’t bring himself to care. Shiro’s eyes are bright and shinier than normal when he finally lets go. “I’m going to get you some of the soup I know Hunk’s been making, and some ice chips for you to suck on; I know they’re what I wanted. They should feel pretty good on your throat. We’ll start easy and if those are ok we can see what else Hunk can come up with. In the meantime, rest. I’ll try to keep the others at bay until at least after dinner. Call us if you need us, though, ok?”

Lance can already feel himself sliding toward sleep as he nods. He’s awake just long enough to feel Shiro give his shoulder a squeeze, before he slides into the blissful depths of sleep.


End file.
